His Heart Doesn't Beat Alone
by bearclaw0122
Summary: Harry wants nothing more than to show George that he's not alone. That he didn't die with his twin.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING. IT IS ALL J.K. ROWLING'S. I JUST MADE THE PLOT.**

**A/N: This follows the books, save the epilogue (which I didn't care for). Or at least it tries to follow them. I am human, ergo I will make mistakes. Also, this is a slash pairing, and while I have no intentions of writing explicit sex scenes, there is still romance between two men. If you don't like, please don't read. It's not my desire to make anyone uncomfortable. Also, this is going to be a three part story, I believe. I have ideas for two more "chapters." Hopefully you enjoy.  
~Shaun**

The Great Hall was blanketed in a glooming peace. Mourning surrounded everyone, enveloping them in an unwelcome embrace. The Weasleys clustered at one end of the hall, surrounding their fallen son and brother.

Harry could see Molly clinging to Arthur, fighting to stand against the gravity of seeing her worst fear realized. Arthur looked dumbstruck, eyes empty of the curiosity Harry had grown to enjoy.

Ron and Hermione stood together, entwined, supporting one another through the tears. Ginny was being cradled close by Fleur, her angry sobs echoing through the room. Fleur was sobbing silently, looking at her husband Bill who simply stared towards the floor with tears rolling down his cheeks.

Charlie gave heaving sobs as he held Percy, who shook with the force of his silent weeping.

Then there was George. Harry felt his breath catch a little as he looked at George. His eyes were empty, and tears flowed down his cheeks in an uninterrupted stream. He knealt down beside his twin, who had always been there. He didn't know what it meant to live without his twin. He knew that he was still alive. He could feel his own heart beating, the rise and fall of his own chest. But these actions seemed incomplete. He yearned for the comfort of knowing that another heart would beat in time with his, that another chest rose and fell. He just continued to stare at the lifeless man beside him.

And Harry continued to stare at him. He felt a need to rush to George, to tell him that his heart didn't beat alone. To let him know that there was another who felt completed by him. But he didn't, because now was a time for grief, not for love.

He didn't know exactly when he'd fallen in love with George. Sometime over the years they'd known each other, between laughing at the latest prank or playing Quidditch for hours, Harry started to feel more than just a passing attraction towards George. At first he dismissed it as nothing more than a brotherly love. Until George lost his ear during the Battle of Seven Potters. When he saw George lying there on the couch, a hole in the side of his head, Harry knew he couldn't deny what he felt anymore. He loved George in an earth-shattering way. And that terrified him. He knew that war was in the air and he knew that the chances of George getting hurt or killed were going up by the minute. He wanted nothing more than to hold George tightly that night and give him promises of safety and a peaceful life. But he knew they'd be empty and he couldn't know that George wanted the same thing. So he stayed away.

Now again he wanted to hold George. But he didn't, for fear of George's reaction, and for respect of Fred. Instead he knealt beside George and put and hand gently on his shoulder. George reached up and grabbed his hand and looked at him with a sorrow that hurt Harry to see.

"I'm here, George. For whatever you need. You're not alone in this," Harry whispered, trying to keep and even tone.

George nodded his thanks and turned back to Fred.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING BUT THE PLOT. EVERYTHING ELSE IS J.K. ROWLING'S.**

**A/N: I hope you are enjoying it so far. It might end up being longer than I thought originally, because this scene ended up being longer that I had planned. But I like it a lot. Thank you for taking the time to read. And to those of you who have favorited, followed, and reviewed: Thank you so much. It means a lot to me. This is the first fanfic I've written in almost four years. So it means a lot that you respond. Hope you are all well!  
**

Harry looked in the mirror and adjusted his dress robes, taking a moment to glance at the reflection of George behind him. George wasn't crying as the rest of the Weasleys were. He merely stared into space and stood so still one would think he'd been made of stone. Satisfied that he looked presentable enough, Harry turned from the mirror and walked to George.

"Hi George."

George turned to look at Harry, a look of confusion on his face, as if he had forgotten that he was in fact George.

"We should probably go, or we'll be late. Your dad and brothers are already there and your mum, Ginny, Fleur and Hermione are leaving now. Do you want to Apparate or would you rather use Floo?"

George thought for a moment, unsure how to respond. Then he heard the sound of the girls coming down the stairs and quickly offered his hand to Harry, who took it without question. George gave a sort of half turn and the two were compressed into nothingness with a CRACK.

They reappeared standing outside a stone mausoleum. George held on to Harry's hand for a moment longer, and Harry savored the contact. He silently chastised himself for it, knowing that now was not the time to even consider those feelings. But his heart warmed a little nonetheless.

George let go of his hand and turned to walk into the mausoleum. Harry followed closely behind. Several rows of chairs had been arranged in front of the casket, and many of them were filled. Harry saw several people from Hogwart's, including most of the former Gryffindor Quidditch players. He saw people he didn't recognize and assumed them to be relatives. Professor McGonnagall sat next to Professor Flitwick in the back of the room, talking quietly tears rolling down her cheeks.

At the front of the room sat the Weasley men, each looking at the casket before them, awaiting the start of one of the longest days of their lives. George took his place near them, and upon seeing Harry move toward the back near the professors motioned for him to come and sit beside him.

Harry acquiesced and sat next to George, looking at him as he stared at the box in front of them. Tears rolled silently down George's cheeks and Harry couldn't help but cry at the sight. He placed a hand on George's knee and squeezed gently before realizing that the contact might be unwanted. Before he could pull away though, George took his hand and squeezed back. So he let it stay.

He heard the girls enter and saw them take their places. Molly fell into her seat next to Arthur, her loud sobbing commencing anew. Hermione gently sat beside Ron, taking his hand in hers and kissing him softly. She laid her head on his shoulder and he seemed to relax a little. Fleur sat beside Bill, who wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, as if afraid she would disappear. Ginny sat down between Charlie and Percy, taking their hands in her own, and fighting back the tears.

George didn't seem to notice any of this, as he stared fixedly at the box that held his twin. Part of him hoped that this was all some elaborate hoax that Fred had concocted. That his twin was going to push open the casket and yell surprise. He almost smiled at the thought before he remembered it wasn't true. He felt Harry's hand in his own and was thankful for it. He needed it, to prove to him that he was still living. That he hadn't died that day too. Truthfully, if it weren't the day of his twin's funeral, he would be jumping for joy at the fact that he was finally holding Harry's hand.

George knew the exact moment he realized he was in love with Harry Potter. During his sixth year at Hogwart's, when Harry had come out of the maze clutching Cedric Diggory's lifeless body screaming that Voldemort was back. In that moment, he'd wanted nothing more than to hold Harry close and tell him it would be okay. To kiss away the fear. Before he could even speak to Harry, the impostor Moody had taken him away. George wanted so much to tell Harry what he felt, but he watched as Harry tried dating Cho and then Ginny. He was secretly happy when neither relationship worked out and allowed himself a secret hope. The past year, not knowing where Harry was, whether he was alive, he drove Fred absolutely mad with his worrying. But Fred understood. Fred always understood.

And now he was gone. George began crying harder and felt Harry squeeze his hand.

The service passed in a haze of tears. No one was left dry eyed by the end of it. Harry couldn't remember anything that was said. He'd been focused on George, who had just stared at the casket. After the service, the guests passed by, offering their final condolences and words of comfort before disapparating.

Harry was never quite sure what started the fighting. It seemed that after Percy had a particularly animated talk with a Ministry official, Ron muttered something about being a kiss-ass under his breath at which point the tension that had been so palpable erupted. Ron, Ginny and Bill shouted at Percy for turning his back on his family and Charlie shouted at the three of them for ganging up on Percy. It was only when Ron took an unsuccessful swing at Percy that Mrs. Weasley made it out of her shock.

"Stop it this instant! All of you! You should be ashamed! This is George's funeral and you are carrying on as if we were still at war. Are you petty school children or adults?"

Her voice echoed and left a tense silence.

"Fred, mum."

Mrs. Weasley rounded on the voice, still fuming and snapped, "What?"

"Fred," George repeated softly, "It's Fred's funeral. I'm George. I'm still living. Not that you could tell it by the way you lot have treated me since the day he died."

Mrs. Weasley looked horror-struck, and everyone else stared ashamed at the floor.

George continued, his voice rising.

"If not for Harry here, I'd have believed that I died too that day. None of you have so much as looked me in the eye. Not once. No one said one word. Save Harry. And now on the day that we lay the man to rest who has been with me my entire life, who knew me better than anyone, you lot go on and bicker like nothing has changed. I've had enough. I'm leaving. Until you can learn to get on like adults, just stay away."

He turned to look at Harry, an exhausted look in his eyes.

"Would you come with me, Harry? I don't much fancy being alone and Merlin knows I can't stay here."

He held out a shaking hand to Harry, who took it immediately, looking at everyone they were leaving. Hermione gave him a nod and a knowing sort of look. Mrs. Weasley made a move to say something but her husband stopped her. Harry felt a familiar feeling of being folded in on himself as he and George left with an echoing CRACK.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING. IT'S ALL J.K. ROWLING'S.**

**A/N: Thank you everyone, for reading and favoriting. It makes me feel really good. So, now there is a choice to be made. I haven an idea for another chapter, but at the same time, I feel that this chapter could be a successful ending. So, if you want to, please leave a review once you've read this one and let me know if you want me to leave it with that ending or to post another chapter. I hope you enjoy it, and that you are all well.**

**Shaun  
**

George continued to hold Harry's hand like a lifeline as they stood before the door. The door that gave entry to the world that had been his and Fred's alone. This door stood between the outside world, where everything could be a hoax, and the inside where nothing remained but the truth.

George stared at the door knob. His anger had dissipated. Now he was left with reality. He remembered when he and Fred first bought the flat and shop combo. It was everything they could need. A place to call their own, to create and escape. The price wasn't bad either. Fred had managed to talk the seller down. Always persuasive, that was his twin.

Harry watched George carefully, unsure what to do or say. He needed to comfort George somehow, needed to let him know it would be okay. But those words don't ring true. Not now, not so soon.

He cleared his throat and mumbled, "We don't have to go in. We could go to the Cauldron and come back tomorrow, in the daylight."

George shook his head, blinking back tears.

"If I don't go in there, Fred will never really be dead. I have to go in. Will you promise me something?"

"Anything," was the immediate response.

"Promise me you'll stay. Please don't leave me alone. Promise me."

The look in George's eyes as he said this broke Harry's heart. This was a man at his most broken and vulnerable. There was no hiding, no deception. And Harry had never loved him more.

"I'll stay until you tell me to leave."

"And if I never do?"

Harry smiled, "Then I guess I'll be here forever."

George squeezed Harry's hand and almost kissed him. But he didn't, for fear of the unknown.

He gave a small cough and tapped the door with his wand. It opened silently, revealing the pitch black flat.

George took a deep breath and entered, never letting go of Harry's hand. Harry followed, ashamedly intrigued and excited to be going into George's place.

When George turned on the lights, the flat proved to be rather attractive. The furniture was eclectic with random bits of color and pattern scattered about.

George stood in the center of the main room and looked about. Fred was everywhere here. The furniture, the walls, everything reflected the humor and joy of the man now dead.

Tears started rolling down his cheeks as he turned to Harry.

"What am I going to do, Harry? I've never been alone in my life. He was always there. And I took that for granted. Now he's gone and I don't know how to live without him. I can't live without him."

Harry did his best to hold back tears. He knew that George needed him to be strong right now.

"It will get easier, George."

"You don't know that! I don't feel whole anymore. Ever. I can't breathe without thinking that Fred isn't breathing anymore. Every single heartbeat is a hammer reminding me. What do I do, Harry? I don't want to live my life thinking that he isn't living his."

George collapsed onto the sofa, burying his face in his hands. Harry stood dumbstruck for a minute before regaining his senses. He knelt down in front of George and gently held his hands. His voice shook as he spoke.

"George, Fred is gone. That is never going to be okay. But you can't let yourself live dwelling on it forever. Would you want Fred to do that, if it had been you who died? "

Both men were crying unashamedly. Harry gave a half-smile.

"George you are one of the strongest men I know. You have managed to stay humorous about everything, in spite of everything. You'll survive this. And you don't have to be alone in it. I-I love you, George. More than anything or anyone in this world. I will be here until the end of time if you want me to."

George was silent for a moment, and Harry was afraid he had just made a terrible mistake. He could feel the tears forming in his eyes when suddenly George leaned forward and kissed him. It was clumsy at first, both men unsure and apprehensive. Then it was bliss.

They pulled away and George felt himself smiling.

"I love you too, Harry. You're not doing this out of pity, are you? Trying to distract me and make me feel better?"

Harry laughed, the sound echoing. He quickly quieted, remembering today was not for laughter.

"Did your brain fall out when you lost your ear? Or has Ron been teaching you his clueless ways? I've loved you for a while now. Didn't say anything because I was scared."

George looked into Harry's eyes for a moment.

"Fred knew. He always said I should stop being a bloody git and kiss you first chance I had. Don't know how he knew. He knew about my feelings before I did. He always gave me such hell. Merlin, I miss him."

George broke down into tears again. Harry kissed his forehead and sat beside him on the sofa, pulling him into an embrace. George didn't say anything. He just cried, until his tears ran out. Then, in the comfortable silence, he and Harry fell asleep holding each other.

George awoke to sunlight streaming through the windows. His first thought was that last night had been a dream. Then he heard Harry's heart beating beneath his ear. He smiled.

The pain of Fred's death was still there, like a weight on his chest. But in this moment, George felt like he would survive. Like he wasn't alone. Like he was loved.

"I love you, Harry Potter."


End file.
